


Immaculate

by runsoftbin



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Brotherhood, Brothers, Bullying, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:03:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsoftbin/pseuds/runsoftbin
Summary: Afterall, they are just two lonely brothers who seemed to hate each other when they are just sad. Maybe, just maybe, Jinhwan can heal both of them as he tried hard to heal himself.Just maybe.





	1. Chapter 1

Hanbin lost trust in human being a long time ago. He had choosen to be trapped in his self-built comfort zone where no one can enter; therefore no one can go. He assured himself that needing someone else in life is a weakness, and Hanbin hated to be weak. He had always been fine by his own, ignoring what happened to the world whereas he lived in the reality he wanted. He pushed people away, and he refused to care.

 

Living his life with two equally awkward and cold men in a ridiculously big and empty house making Hanbin grew a far distance. He didn’t like his father. He was like a robot, he showed no emotions at all, even when the day his mother died. Hanbin barely remembered what it feels but all he knew was how tight his chest was knowing his mother had broke their promise. He felt betrayed. He was five.

 

Junhoe cried so loud that day. Hanbin wondered did Junhoe knew what’s going on? He didn’t even understand when Hanbin said their mother was very sick and she couldn’t bake cookies. Hanbin knew Junhoe also didn’t understand the promise they made that they are going to go on vacation as soon as their mother gets better. Junhoe didn’t know their mother broke the promise. But Junhoe looked broken. Junhoe was only four.

 

Living with a family consist of three cold men was never an option for those who want to stay sane. Their father was never home. Hanbin hated the world. Junhoe hated Hanbin. But then their father gave them Chaerin Noona.

 

Chaerin Noona was a cool person. She could make Hanbin laugh, she could put Junhoe to sleep. Chaerin Noona liked music, she taught Junhoe to sing. Hanbin also wanted to sing but his voice was shaky and the beat went very wrong. Chaerin Noona said he could try dancing if he wanted to, and Hanbin did. Dancing was cool. Hanbin liked dancing but Junhoe was good at it too. Hanbin hated it when Junhoe could do what he did, so Hanbin tried to play instrument. Chaerin Noona said his play was cool, and Junhoe couldn’t do it near as good as Hanbin. At that time, Hanbin was eleven and Junhoe was ten. At that time, Hanbin remembered that he didn’t talk to Junhoe, almost at all. And maybe Junhoe didn’t want to talk to him either.

 

When Hanbin was thirteen, Chaerin Noona wanted to leave the country. Hanbin was disappointed, Junhoe was angry. He wanted Chaerin Noona to stay but she said she couldn’t. She said she needed to go, and Hanbin didn’t understand her.

 

Soon after, Hanbin knew that Chaerin Noona was only someone their father hired to take care of them so they can have human contact at home aside from their maids. Chaerin Noona was told to leave by his father, and Hanbin saw him taking away Chaerin Noona by car, bringing a big luggage with her, and when Hanbin checked her room, it was empty. Hanbin remembered how Chaerin Noona hugged him without saying goodbye. She had hugged Junhoe too, and Junhoe had cried when he saw Chaerin Noona cried.

 

Hanbin was furious. His father just needed to take away everything in his life—it’s like he would not let Hanbin be happy, not even for once. Just when little Hanbin grew attached with Chaerin Noona, she had to go without explanation. She was the only person Hanbin could talk to, the only person who seemed to really care about his well-being. Hanbin had mourned that time too, feeling abandoned yet again by someone whom he considered important.

 

Hanbin had grown up hating his father for what he did—and for what he didn’t. For abandoning him, for not coming home. For taking away people he loves, for not being there when he needed the most. Hanbin was angry, to no one in particular because everything just seemed to go out of his control. The world was cruel to him and Hanbin learned it the hard way.

 

And when Hanbin was busy hating the world, Junhoe grew up hating his brother. Hanbin didn’t really pay attention to his little brother—he was too busy trying to cope up with his own wounds. He was too small to take care of himself, he was too busy mourning over the loss of his mother. Young Hanbin didn’t know that his mother’s death hurted Junhoe just as deep, but Junhoe was also too much a young kid to tell them how he felt.

 

Hanbin didn’t know what’s keeping him alive. Maybe because suicide is for coward? Or maybe he just wanted to see what could the world do to hurt him more than he alredy felt. Hanbin kept going just like an ordinary teenage boy. But he grew up to be sarcastic, barely care about anything, a rebel. He wanted the world to see how strong he had became.

 

“Hey B.I, the stage is yours.”

 

Hanbin nodded. He put down his beer can and throw the cigarette on his right hand carelessly. He grabbed the microphone and start swearing his heart out through loud music and harsh lyrics.

 

_“So let me tell you fuckers how to get shit done. Listen to a kid teaching you lessons about the world and go fucking cry over your unexistent dignity.”_

The crowd cheered, some of them spitted feeling offended when Hanbin point at them with his middle finger. Hanbin continued, rapping about how great he was and how small everyone else was compared to himself. Right there B.I was a prodigy; the son of a God. Not a little kid who mourn about his little pathetic family and cried over it for a long time.

 

This is the recognition he needed. He needed the fame, he needed people to know and respect him in some way. He wanted people to know him as the free and fearless underground rapper kid named B.I. B.I was wild, angry, unstoppable, immoral... but the thing is B.I was strong and Hanbin could borrow his strength from time to time just to hide from his messed up mind. This was the life Hanbin wanted. The life as B.I with beer can and cigarette in one hand, and microphone in the other one.

.

.

.

“Junhoe you need to get out from here, it’s already midnight! Go home, kid, go home!”

 

Junhoe was gaping, drenched with sweat when he tighten his shoelaces. He was dead tired that his legs were shaking but he wouldn’t give up just yet. His friend Kim Donghyuk already sprawled on the studio floor since hours before but Junhoe insisted on keeping him because he wanted to get some move done.

 

“I need to do the double spin.” Junhoe said, making Donghyuk seated from his laying position. His friend was indeed crazy. He was so unbelievably ambitious that it’s not even healthy anymore. It was just the school’s annual event, not a competition. Junhoe was dancing fine without the double spin, his left ankle was also still injured from the tumbling trial he had done some days before. Junhoe was so ambitious that it’s scary.

 

“You don’t have to! This is getting ridiculous, you are injured!”

 

Donghyuk’s words fell on deaf ears as Junhoe turned the music on and start dancing again. Just when Donghyuk walked to turn the music off, he could see Junhoe’s right foot slipped followed by a loud thud and an even louder groan.

 

“FUCK!” Junhoe punched the floor and cursed some more after feeling the hurt on his hand. He laid on the floor, closing his eyes as he catched his breath. Donghyuk walked to him, dropping his body right beside his best friend. At some point, Donghyuk felt so much tension and pressure on Junhoe, his friend was working too hard on almost everything as if he was obliged to be the best at whatever he did. He studied like everyday was a test, he took courses out of school, he took music classes, he joined dance club, he was the ace of soccer team, he basically did everything until what’s left for him to sleep was barely three to five hours a day.

 

Junhoe put too much pressure on himself. Even when he won something from his hardwork, Donghyuk never saw a proud smile on his lips, the top of Donghyuk could see was a barely-heard mumble as Junhoe looked at his trophy, barely even smiling.

 

Donghyuk never knew what made Junhoe so hard on himself. At first, he adored Junhoe, he was the true meaning of a son of every parent’s dream. He could do almost everything that it made Donghyuk proud just being friends with him. But as Donghyuk get to know him better, he got scared. Junhoe’s obsession of being the first and the best was not healthy anymore. He would spent whole night studying without eat and sleep when it comes to final tests, he would train until his muscles gave up, he would sing until his voice cracked.

 

“Come on, Junhoe. Let’s go home.” Donghyuk said, pulling his bestfriend’s hand hoping he would bug a little.

 

“I won’t go anywhere until I got this move perfected, Donghyuk. You don’t need to wait for me, if you wanna go, then go.” Junhoe said even without opening his eyes. He was still sprawled on the floor, breathing calmer than before.

 

“It’s not what I mean. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

 

“Can’t do. Tomorrow is Tuesday, I have soccer at the afternoon and I have to sing my throat off until late at night. I only have today for this shit to be done.” Junhoe sat, grabbing his water bottle and gobbled everything down. Donghyuk looked at his friend in concern. He felt bad, seriously.

 

“Why are you so hard on yourself, Junhoe?”

 

Junhoe looked at Donghyuk, his sharp eyes are staring straight to Donghyuk’s narrow ones. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

 

“No one needs to be the best in everything, you know. You don’t have to do everything to prove that you are good. We are just sixteen, don’t live like that.”

 

Junhoe hung his head low, staring at the floor between his slightly spreaded legs. He smiled slightly, but somehow it doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

“I just need to be so tired so I can sleep at night. That’s all.”

 

“Are you insomniac?” Donghyuk asked, but Junhoe shook his head. “Then what?”

 

Junhoe stood up, walking a little limp to pick his bag from the floor. Donghyuk followed him with stare, somehow he felt something was off about his friend.

 

“You won’t understand.” Junhoe said, swaying the backpack to his left shoulder. Donghyuk could only shake his head in confusion, not wanting to be too nosy about his friend’s business. He picked his own back, and prepared t walk out from the dance studio.

 

“Mind if I stay over again tonight?” Junhoe said, a little bit hesitate. Donghyuk sighed when he locked the door.

 

“You haven’t slept at your own house for almost a week, you know. Won’t anyone get mad?” Donghyuk said, but Junhoe laughed a little.

 

“It’s okay, man, there are no one at my house anyway.”

 

“Hanbin?”

 

“This night might marked one hundred days since he slept under a bridge, I think.” Junhoe said sarcastically, and then he laughed like a maniac. Donghyuk looked at him, with a deep concern because that laugh didn’t sound normal to his ears. “Seriously, Donghyuk, he’s probably drunk in some club, I don’t wanna deal with drunk person once I get home.”

 

Donghyuk sighed while muttering “fine” under his breath. Seeing how lonely his friend in that big house really make him pity Junhoe. He didn’t know which one was worse between how much Junhoe hated Hanbin or how much Hanbin didn’t care about Junhoe’s existence. Since the first time Donghyuk knew Junhoe—almost six years ago—the name ‘Hanbin’ and ‘Junhoe’ was prohibited to put in one sentence. It was sad, Donghyuk thought. As much he wanna know about what actually happened between the two brothers, Donghyuk chose to stay silent and support his friend as much as he could.

.

.

.

“Really? After half year of disappearing you came out of nowhere bringing a new kid to live with us? Is this an orphanage for you that you can just add the kids and then go somewhere and then back with another kid later. This is fun for you, isn’t it?”

 

Hanbin’s loud voice echoed in the large living room where his father sat on a luxurious cushion crossing his legs like the boss he is. He didn’t budge at Hanbin’s harsh and cold words, he remained strangely calm and that’s what Hanbin hated from him even more. Hanbin stood a few meters away from his father, still dressed like a street thug because he came home too late to even strip his clothes.

 

Junhoe scoffed, wearing that sad smirk on his face wanting to make it as annoying as possible. “With that foul mouth I wonder why are you still alive up until today. Hasn’t anyone tried to kill you yet?” he said, sitting on the same cushion set but far far away from his father. Junhoe hated that his sarcasm didn’t even make Hanbin jump at him, he hated the situation when the three of them were at home—he hated it even more when they are trying to make any sort of communication like that.

 

“So this is where you will stay. Your every needs will be prepared by the maids, your school had been arranged by my people. Live comfortably, okay? If you need anything, they are here to help you.” Junhoe burned holes to the kid’s petite being, he looked so small sitting beside his father, so tiny. He didn’t even look like a boy. He looked so lost and scared, and Junhoe knew Hanbin hated that kind of face. Yeah, basically Hanbin hated everything, but to this boy it would be more than hatred. Hanbin might even kill him someday.

 

“Like hell I will help with anything!”

 

“That is Hanbin. He might be a little harsh but he won’t hurt you. That is Junhoe, as long as you don’t mess with him, you are safe. Kids, this is Jinhwan. Treat him nice.”

 

With a pat on Jinhwan’s shoulder, their father stood up and leave the room, leaving the three of them stay awkward. Hanbin didn’t seem to be less mad than before, Junhoe didn’t seem to stop staring at Jinhwan, and Jinhwan seemed like he’s gonna faint in any minute.

 

“Why is that old man always sickeningly calm and compose like that, it’s making me so mad.” Hanbin tugged on his messy hair as he sat on the cushion away from the other two boys.

 

“Ow nice, why don’t you rap about that tonight and tell the whole world?”

 

Hanbin stared at Junhoe who met his brother’s angry eyes bravely. “Can you just shut the fuck up,” Hanbin spatted.

 

“No.”

 

Hanbin mutters ‘fuck you’ to Junhoe when he headed straight to his room, but stopped in front of Jinhwan who looked down to the floor, scared and clueless.

 

“You, stay the fuck away from me.”

 

And with that Jinhwan left with Junhoe, sitting so faraway across each other as Junhoe kept on looking curiously at him.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes to observe Jinhwan more, “why did the old man bring you here? I don’t think he’s the type to bring some random kid home just out of pity.”

 

Jinhwan bit his lower lip. He felt so small, he felt cornered. It wasn’t his wish to be brought to someone else’s house, and at that time it seemed like he got people hated on him for his existence. Jinhwan hated that feeling, he was confused and he didn’t know what to do.

 

“Hey, look at me.” Junhoe said, but Jinhwan hung his head even lower. Jinhwan was afraid, he didn’t like Junhoe. He didn’t like the new house.

 

“Hey tiny boy,”

 

Junhoe sighed when Jinhwan didn’t budge any inch. He decided to walk towards the petite boy but then he noticed that the boy was trembling in fear.

 

“Seriously?” Junhoe half screamed, the boy looked so scared as if he was a rapist. “I swear if I touch you, you would faint.”

 

It was useless anyway, the tiny boy really seemed to be afraid of him. When Junhoe looked again, he didn’t seem to be any threat, he looked harmless. Defenseless, even. Junhoe was just wondering who in the world was the boy. There were no way his old man would be so kind to just random kid he saw on the street.

 

Junhoe guessed he had to find out by himself.

 

“I think you should also stay away from me.” Junhoe said before he walked to his own room. It was Sunday, and he himself was surprised that he didn’t want to go anywhere. No soccer practice, no dancing club, no random gym classes... He had had a little fun pouring some sarcasm over Hanbin this morning and he was satisfied enough.

.

.

.

-TBC-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jinhwan likes it when it’s all white and plain. It reminds him of the house in his childhood, where his mother was there singing songs with him when he was sad. He doesn’t remember the song; he doesn’t even remember how the house looked. All he could recall was his mother’s beautiful smile, he liked it. Little Jinhwan liked the tea his mother made at afternoon; he liked the smell of leaves and trees around the house too. For Jinhwan, white resembled his mother, pure and kind.

Jinhwan likes white. He likes his new room. It is very spacious and quiet too. It is bright, just like what Jinhwan wanted. Brightness keeps all his nightmares away, it keeps away the monsters and bad people from coming. He likes it plain, pure. Immaculate. He could breathe easier that way.

The luxurious house where he’s staying feels very lonely. It’s a modern styled house but nicely harmonized with European style furniture. The house filled with paints and small statues, but Jinhwan noticed that there were no photos of actual human being. The majority themes of the paints were flowers with different colors and backgrounds. Jinhwan likes it. The paints could almost convey that it painted wholeheartedly; sincerely. It’s nice; somehow the colors could make the plain white house more alive.

Jinhwan usually likes it quiet, without much noise so he could hear the sound of his own breath. But that house was not just quiet. It’s empty. Jinhwan feels lonely because it almost like no one was there. The only thing that makes him sure the house was still visited by people is the amount of foods in the fridge and the sound of butler and maid’s footstep in some rooms.

That morning Jinhwan wanted to just go back under his blanket. He was never good with people, he doesn’t like them. People are bad, they hurt each other. His mother once said, there is nothing to be afraid of human being, they are eating just like him, breathing and living just like him. People won’t hurt him, his mother said. But he remembered when he was little, the first time he let go of his mother’s hand he cried. Some boys in his class at the kindergarten laughed at him and Jinhwan hated it. They picked on him, they bullied him. They said he is a weakling, and they hated weak boys. Jinhwan never told his mother that he got bullied; he kept going to school and kept silent about everything.

At Junior High school, the bullies didn’t stop. He was just thirteen, he was smaller than the boys in his class, he was quiet and introvert too. Every boy at Junior High wanted to be acknowledged as powerful, that they can beat people so they are feared. They picked on Jinhwan every time, telling him that he was weak, that he was stupid, he was a burden for his poor mother who was only a pianist at a restaurant. At first, Jinhwan didn’t believe it, he was not a burden, his mother said. His mother said he was beautiful, he was innocent and pure. Jinhwan desperately wanted to believe in her, but there was a small part in his heart telling him that ‘pure’ and ‘innocent’ were just a synonym of ‘stupid’ and ‘useless’, just like what his friends said.

The bullies began to beat Jinhwan at the age of thirteen. Jinhwan grew up feeling insecure, sad, and somehow growing hatred towards himself. Seeing his mother worked very hard to save money so he could go to college made him believe it even more.

But the last thing Jinhwan wanted to do was making his mother disappointed. He kept going to school, enduring the bullies day by day. The bullies turned into beatings and he started coming home bleeding and bruising. At first, he could hide it from his mother, but as time goes by, it got worse and worse.

Nearly two years after the first beating, he was rushed to hospital with a cracked skull, broken arm and knife wound on his lower stomach.

Jinhwan didn’t remember anything except darkness and noises. He didn’t remember what happened until he felt an excruciating pain in the back of his head and his lower abdomen then he lost all his strength. The first thing he remembers just a few hours after he gained consciousness—his mother said after one week of sleeping—was three police officers dragged his mother out of the room with a letter left for him to cry upon. Arrested for violence, under-aged abuse, and murder trial, it said. The victim was the boy he recognized as the one who brought him down to an alley and beat him mercilessly. It was too much for his wounded body to bear, that he was barely remember anything anymore.

Jinhwan didn’t remember much after that time, but he did remember the times when his arms were hurting because they kept poking it with needles. He remembered living so long in the hospital although his arm was okay again and his stomach wound healed. His mother didn’t show up, but everyone kept telling him if he can fight his fear, he will meet his mother soon.

Jinhwan thought he had beaten his fear, that he can start meeting people again and trust himself not to allow bad people hurt him. Jinhwan even allowed a rich man brought him away from the hospital, he said he was his father’s best friend and his mother asked him for help. He said he would help Jinhwan to meet his mother, and desperately, Jinhwan believed.

Jinhwan is 18 years old, he remembers things from his past but at the same time, it feels like he had forgotten so many things too. Jinhwan feels incomplete; there are gaps between his memories and he couldn’t grasp what it is. Jinhwan never stops wishing to be normal again, to be human enough to blend with people. He wants to heal his fears so he can meet his mother.

But it’s not easy. Jinhwan is confused; he’s left in a big house with only butlers and maids, also two brothers who are never seen around. From the first time Jinhwan met them, his little heart felt weird stings that similar with the heartache he used to feel. Jinhwan never knows how two brothers should act towards each other, but he’s pretty sure they don’t casually wish for each other to be killed or disappear.  
.  
.  
.  
Hanbin stormed out the house so early, carelessly wearing his uniform with backpack swung against his shoulder. Hanbin always left early so he doesn’t have to encounter anyone who will probably ruin his mood, because when his mood is ruined from the morning, at the evening he could be very lethal. He doesn’t want to choke Junhoe dry in the morning just because some rude comments he throws at him. Not because Hanbin is offended of the comments, it’s just too irritating that Junhoe always goes too far only to get attention.

The walk to school actually takes one hour in standard pace. But Hanbin can make it 20 minutes if he runs. He likes running in the morning, especially when it’s cold. Running makes him feel warm, and tired. That is when Hanbin can hear his own heartbeat. Hanbin liked heartbeats. Heartbeats are full of hope, full of life.   
Hanbin likes to sit on the rooftop, just waiting for the bell to ring because he always arrives too early. He avoids any encounters with anyone. He walks out from home even before Junhoe wake up and usually he would go back home after everyone’s asleep. He arrives at school before many people are there and go out of school either when everyone is still in class or when everyone had gone. Hanbin likes to be alone.

Hanbin is never really comfortable around anyone, especially not Junhoe. The great Junhoe who is actually given every luxurious facility because of his brilliance, and Hanbin would be forever the douchebag older brother who always makes trouble. Junhoe’s existence is only to emphasize how much he fucked up in life, and his father is fully aware of that. Even though Junhoe never get along really well with their father either, but he is the one who would attend important parties and meetings, claimed to be the potential heir of every bit of wealth.

Too bad that Hanbin doesn’t care about the wealth.

From the top of the seven floored school building, Hanbin could see the luxurious car dropping the young master Junhoe in front of the gate. The chauffeur opened the door, and Junhoe would hop out of the car with a sly smile as if he was the actor from a famous movie. Hanbin hates that scene. Junhoe never stop looking for as much attention as possible from just anyone. It doesn’t look cool in Hanbin’s eyes. It simply looks sad.

Hanbin squints his eyes when he saes the other side of the door opens, showing the tiny boy wearing the same uniform as them. Ah, of course his old man would also get the little boy to their school. Hanbin cannot see it clearly but the tiny boy looks uncomfortable. Is that how he is? Uncomfortable being around anyone?

His body is too small for a boy around his age and it might be a disadvantage. It might trigger bullies, knowing that the tiny boy so petite and weak, moreover, he looks terrified of human. Who doesn’t like making fun of that kind of person? Hanbin laugh cynically to himself, the oversized coat made the tiny boy looks even more fragile. His face looks too pale even from afar; it made him somehow looks sick.

But as long as Hanbin isn’t dragged to any trouble because of him, he would just stay away from that boy.

Hanbin forgets the boy’s name, he doesn’t care. Even he might be one of his old man’s illegal son from some women out there, he MIGHT be. Even if it’s true, Hanbin still cannot bring himself to care.

School is not something Hanbin likes, in fact, he hates it. The school has castes; it divides students into social classes. Some students are in the smart caste, some others are ace in sports or music. Some of them are the heir of rich and elite people; some of them are the children of parliament’s people. Hanbin doesn’t belong to any of those, he is the exception of almost everything because the teachers and fellow students had given up on him long time ago.

Hanbin hopped down from the rail where he was sitting all morning. He likes looking at people from distances, it made him feel like he was only a viewer. An audience. It’s nice to think that he is just an outsider whose stories don’t really matter for anyone because he’s not in the movie. But too bad, he was one of the actors too.

Hanbin put on his headset, turning the music on to the maximal volume as he walked to his class downstairs. It was cold outside, he doesn’t realize that he’s trembling slightly, his hands are close to numb and his nose hurts from the continuous inhale of cold air. He will write lyrics again in the math class this morning, or listening to music from his headset with full volume. The teacher already gave up, it’s better that Hanbin sit down peacefully writing or even sleeping, than going around causing troubles inside or outside the school.

It’s always fun knowing that Junhoe study his ass off every day, while Hanbin sits there sleeping at the morning class and fully awake the whole night at some clubs. Junhoe was predicted to be able to enter the most prestigious college in the country, or even abroad, meanwhile Hanbin will not go to college. He wants to make music, and when he graduates—if he ever so—he would live by his own and if possible he wanted to cut strings with the so-called family.

Hanbin had planned a little future ahead of him. He doesn’t see his father there, there is also no Junhoe. It must be nice, he thought. His father will let him go, and Junhoe will be happy. And he too, maybe, will find his own happiness.  
.  
.  
.  
It is irritating when a teacher drag you from class, and it was not Hanbin’s first time. A teacher randomly shows up in his class and knocks on his table to get his attention from drawing some random pictures. He tugs on his headset to hear what he teacher was saying, and just when he heard “follow me for a moment”, he rolls his eyes.

“What did I do wrong now?” he asks without any interest.

“Just follow me.”

Hanbin clicks his tongue, roughly tugs on his headset and carelessly throw it on the table. He often got suspected of things he didn’t even do and he was sure that this was one of it. It is the disadvantage of having a bad reputation; the teacher will assume you are guilty for things that went wrong even though you have nothing to do with it.

Hanbin silently followed the tall figured teacher, they walk through the empty hallway without anyone talks about anything—it isn’t like they have things to talk about. Hanbin just want this to end as soon as possible because the longer he tries to put up with people, the more irritated he gets and his self-control is close to none at all. Hanbin doesn’t want to punch a teacher straight on the face.

Just when Hanbin thought he will be brought to the homeroom teacher’s office, they walked pass it. Hanbin is starting to get suspicious that he was brought to the headmaster office because this time is not just a small problem. His old man maybe didn’t care much about him but when he felt humiliated, Hanbin can really get killed by one of his men.

Hanbin passed Junhoe’s class and he caught a glance of Junhoe seriously listening to his teacher. Junhoe always have that serious look on his face. Just when Hanbin felt glad that Junhoe didn’t look at him, suddenly the younger boy sweeps his glance outside his window and their eyes met for a brief second.

Hanbin was a little bit taken aback, but seeing this kind of scene probably is not the first time for Junhoe. It only means Hanbin is in trouble and Junhoe likes it when Hanbin’s life is threatened. Hanbin can still see that smirk on Junhoe’s face when he shakes his head mockingly. Hanbin mouthed ‘fuck you’ to Junhoe and the younger boy just laughed in victory, signing that he was that glad when Hanbin caught in trouble.

Hanbin is a little bit surprised when they also passed the headmaster’s office. The teacher continues to walk and Hanbin starts to get more and more suspicious.

“Where are we going?”

The teacher didn’t have to answer when he opened the door of infirmary room. He asked Hanbin to get in but the young boy hesitated.

“Why are you taking me here?”

The teacher doesn’t answer but he nonverbally force Hanbin to get into the infirmary. Hanbin was about to protest when his eyes caught the image of someone he knew sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling barely touch the floor. His face, ears, and eyes are red. His cheeks are wet with what Hanbin assumed as tears.

“What the.....”

Hanbin can still hear the sniffles from the tiny boy although the sound of nebulizer is a little too annoying to his ears. The tiny boy looks terrified and weak, his left hand is fisting the bed sheet as his right hand is holding oxygen mask to cover his mouth and nose. He keeps looking at the floor, too afraid to look up at Hanbin’s face.

“What happened?!” Hanbin half shouted.

“He had a bad panic attack. Did he has any history of traumatic experience, or asthma, or—“

“And what the hell it has to do with me?! Damn it!” Hanbin growled, but he could still see the tiny boy flinched at his harsh voice.

“We tried to call his guardian’s number but no one’s answering. When we asked him, he only knows one name.” The infirmary doctor said,

“Yours.”  
.  
.  
.  
(TBC)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk ikon with me @rundaehyun  
> talk doubleb too, i love them
> 
> That's all for now!


	3. Chapter 3

“Seriously?” Hanbin kept sighing and rambling out of frustration. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say no to the infirmary doctor who asked him to bring the tiny boy home. Apparently, they knew that Hanbin and the tiny boy lived under the same roof from the school’s data. He had only two choices; to bring the boy home by himself or to persuade Junhoe to do it instead—which means he has to talk to the most sarcastic human being ever alive in the world—and of course he chose option number one.

 

Hanbin had to walk very slowly on the pavement because the tiny boy couldn’t seem to pick up his pace. He still looked pale and somehow terrified but Hanbin couldn’t care less. Why on earth did the boy mentioned his name? He could have mentioned Junhoe’s name instead, they had ridden the same car to the school that morning. Hanbin walked to the bus stop and the boy just obediently followed him. If only he mentioned Junhoe’s name instead of his, he would have been fetched with a luxurious car by now. Hanbin could only bring him home by bus, because apparently if they continue walking, the boy will pass out soon.

 

They sat on the bench waiting for the bus to arrive. Hanbin forgot his name—he didn’t actually care about him. He only did this out of humanity. The boy kept looking down, didn’t make any sound at all.

 

“Seriously?” Hanbin nearly growled, “on your first day of school, instead of making friends, you got a panic attack?!” he sighed, “you are worse than a pre-schooler.”

 

They sat in silence for the next minutes because Hanbin was trying real hard not to say any harsh words again. He might say the worst words when he’s irritated but considering the boy is in a merely weak state, he chose to shut his mouth. The other boy didn’t even move, except his shoulder went up and down as he’s breathing.

 

Hanbin was playing with his handphone when the bus arrived, and as usual, it was packed inside. At daytime, the bus will be very crowded and if they are not careful enough, there might be some pervert or thief inside. The crowd sometime didn’t allow them to even breath fully, but Hanbin used to that kind of things.

 

He hopped inside the bust first, and the boy followed him. They had to stand and somehow the crowd pushed them to the back of the bus. Hanbin held on the bus handle but the tiny boy looked confused. Hanbin didn’t even realize that by now the boy had his two hands fisted on Hanbin’s uniform, eyes opened wide and sweat formed on his forehead. Hanbin was about to slap the boy’s hand because the front side of his uniform had crinkled and Hanbin hates it, but when he looked down to the short boy, he could see fear and panic.

 

When the bus started to move, their bodies were pressed against each other, because the tiny boy couldn’t find any grip of bus handle, he was clinging to Hanbin’s body. It was very packed that Hanbin had no choice but to let the shorter boy hide his face on Hanbin’s right shoulder. At first Hanbin didn’t pay attention, but when he realize that the boy who is now almost inside his embrace shaking, he had no choice but to slightly wrap his free hand on the boy’s tiny being.

 

Minutes passed and somehow the short boy in Hanbin’s hand is still shaking, but not too obvious. Hanbin could still feel the boy fisting the front side of his uniform and he could also feel the boy’s breath almost beside his neck. It was when the driver suddenly step on the brake, the passengers pushed to the front and being the little man he is, the short boy almost got squeezed between other passengers and Hanbin’s body. Hanbin tried to stabilize his position between the crowd of passengers who are complaining loudly to the driver. Hanbin can still hear the driver apologized and said he avoided a woman who crossed the street. But then, his attention focused on the tiny boy who shakes more than before.

 

“Hanbin... Hanbin...”

 

The boy kept calling his name and somehow his breath quickens. He buried his face further to Hanbin’s chest and Hanbin could feel his harsh breath, the fist on Hanbin’s uniform tighten and seconds after that Hanbin could feel the front side of his uniform gets slightly wet.

 

“Hey what’s wrong?” he asked, but the boy kept burying his face to Hanbin’s chest, desperately wanted to get closer to him as much as possible. He didn’t answer, and he’s already crying by now because Hanbin could somehow hear his choked breath.

 

“Hanbin...,”

 

“Gosh, yes I heard you, okay?! I’m right here,” Hanbin was getting frustrated because he could feel the short boy is leaning on him almost fully—he didn’t even support his own body anymore, “Ow God, why are you breathing like that? Please don’t pass out on me at this situation...”

 

By now almost everyone around them are looking at Hanbin curiously—some of them even judging—and it made Hanbin even more confuse of what he should do. He had never experienced that kind of thing, neither did him ever seen it. It was his first time, and he wasn’t even good at treating people—moreover a sick one, by this point.

 

He kept supporting the boy’s weight and a little bit of worry clung on to his heart by seeing the tiny boy so helpless like that, what if he suffered from some kind of deadly illness? Hanbin would be a very bad person by letting a sick person ride a packed bus like that, wouldn’t he? The thing that made him worried less is that he could still feel the boy’s breath against his chest and somehow he could also still hear his name being called all over again, even though it’s barely above a whisper.

 

“Hey kid, what is wrong with your little brother?” a man near Hanbin—looked like in his forties—said while looking at both of them. Silently, Hanbin was glad that the man saw them as brother because that kind of pose in public place could lead into many wrong conclusions.

 

“I... I don’t know.” Hanbin managed to say. He could still hear some middle aged women whispering about them, but he couldn’t care less.

 

“I think your brother had an asthma attack,” a woman said, but Hanbin isn’t really sure.

 

“Does your brother has any severe illness?”

 

“Does he has any trauma or phobia?”

 

“Does he has any medicine to take?”

 

Hanbin was nearly mad when almost people attacked him with question. He knew that they only wanted to help him because maybe he looked so hopeless too, but the questions made his heart wants to explode. He couldn’t answer anything as the questions kept coming and he could only look at them confusedly. Hanbin was very glad that the bus finally stopped.

 

“You should get him out of here. He might feel suffocated.” A man said, and actually that was the most rational suggestion that given by people on the bus. He had difficulties helping the shorter boy to get out of the bus, but somehow he still manage to squeeze their way out.

 

Hanbin helped the boy to sit down on a bench beside him because the boy was still clinging to him like a koala. He was still shaking, and also sweating. Hanbin had no idea what caused the boy to be like that, neither what he should do to stop it. He let the boy buried his face on his chest anyway, although he felt a little bit irritated when people stares at him weirdly. He decided to just wait until the boy release him because there are no use to peel him away, when Hanbin pushed him away a little, it seemed like he would break down crying.

 

“Hanbin...”

 

“What,” he answered lazily, he looked down at the boy and cringed a little remembering that his uniform would be all wet, “don’t breath like a dying person like that,” Hanbin said. He couldn’t help but a little bit worried that the boy was actually dying—and he just brought a dying person ride a super crowded bus.

 

Hanbin sat still, somehow deep inside his heart he felt a little bit relieved that the shiver had subsided. They already sat there without moving about 15 minutes and Hanbin began to get tired.

 

“Hey,” Hanbin shook smaller boy a little. They still have to walk since they didn’t get off the bus in the right bus stop. Hanbin wasn’t really surprised when the boy had fallen asleep, but when he pushed him away a little, his face looked tired but peaceful. Hanbin clicked his tongue. That boy might be so tiny but he could make Hanbin do things he never imagined he would do.

 

“What did I do to you to deserve this kind of punishment,” Hanbin slightly wiped the boy’s wet face with his palm—he didn’t even know why he did that. He had no choice but to carry the boy on his back all the way home.

 

“This is why I told you to stay away from me.” Hanbin adjusted the boy on his back, constantly telling himself that he did it for humanity.

.

.

.

To say Junhoe was surprised to find Hanbin carrying Jinhwan on his back in the front of the door was an understatement. It was Hanbin, he doesn’t touch people, nor let people touch him. Moreover, he carried a passed out Jinhwan on his back, and Junhoe didn’t want to guess why.

 

“Honor student gets home early, wow such a surprise.” Hanbin said while walking passed Junhoe who was still standing on the doorway.

 

Once he knew that Jinhwan had panic attack and brought home by Hanbin, Junhoe couldn’t help but think about the tiny boy’s safety. It was Hanbin, he has no consideration of people’s well-being, nor people’s feeling. He picked up his bag and went home by taxi—too much in hurry to call his driver. But when he reached home, Hanbin and Jinhwan were nowhere to be found, much to his surprise.

 

“What did you do to him?!” he asked—more like accused Hanbin. The older boy didn’t answer when he was busy lowering his body, managing to put the sleeping Jinhwan on the couch. Junhoe noticed Jinhwan’s red and semi-wet face, the oldest boy looked tired. He wanted to ask Hanbin about what happened but he simply didn’t want to make too much communication with that person.

 

Hanbin stretched his body when he had rested Jinhwan on the couch. Junhoe kept looking at him, curious of what he had done to Jinhwan and how they got home.

 

“What have you done to him?” Junhoe asked again, and Hanbin automatically turned to face him and sent him a glare, he felt accused.

 

“Why are you so concerned?”

 

“Oh yes, I am actually a human being who concerns about people other than myself. Unlike certain person who only thinks about himself,” Junhoe sarcastically answered, but Hanbin just walk away heading to his room.

 

“This person who only care about himself actually brings that boy home safely. You should probably thank me, Mr. Caring Person who suspect me out of anything bad that happens to the world.”

 

“Who wouldn’t suspect you, you almost look like a street thug, I won’t be surprised if someday you got into jail for no reason but your appearance and attitude.”

 

Hanbin turns, looking at Junhoe who smirked at him.

 

“When will you stop trying to get my attention?” Hanbin said calm, but sharp. “It doesn’t irritate me, it only looks sad that I pity you. If you are lonely that much, there your rich old man bought you a little toy to play with,” Hanbin pointed at Jinhwan, “stay the fuck away from my life.” And then he walked away, leaving Junhoe who was stunned on his two feet.

 

Those words hurt his pride like never before. It wasn’t rude, it wasn’t evil. Junhoe felt hurt because it’s simply true. All he ever did, throwing sarcasm to Hanbin, mocking him, calling him stupid... he didn’t do it because it’s fun. He always denies it but deep inside he knew that he wanted himself to matter to Hanbin. At least for Hanbin to consider him as enemy, or rival, or just anything.

 

Hanbin was the reason he was too harsh to himself, he wanted to be so good in so many things that actually someday Hanbin would hate him because of it. He didn’t feel proud when his father brought him to meetings and parties, introducing him as the heir of every bit of wealth. He wanted Hanbin to be jealous, to feel at least any emotion possible against him.

 

Junhoe laugh bitterly. Who was he kidding? If he really matters to anyone, wouldn’t all his achievement made him proud of himself? He wanted to be proud of himself, to be happy of what he achieved after working so hard to earn it. But all he ever felt was it’s not enough. Not just for anyone else to be able to love him out of it, but also for himself. Junhoe wanted to matter, just for anyone.

 

He guessed he would never matter to Hanbin.

 

But he didn’t know why, he didn’t want to stop trying. Even when it means he had to try hurting and defeating Hanbin as harsh as possible. He wanted himself to matter.

 

Junhoe shook his head, erasing the pathetic thought out of his mind. He kept telling himself that he is a tough boy, he has everything. It usually works real fine—telling himself that there’s nothing he couldn’t do—but at that moment, he could only let out a faint laugh.

 

He looked at Jinhwan who laid on the couch, sleeping soundly.

 

_If you are lonely that much, there your rich old man bought you a little toy to play with._

 

A little toy to play with. It sounds too pathetic that Junhoe wanted to erase that words from his memories.

 

He inspected the older boy, he indeed looked delicate. Somehow his breaths were still a bit harsh, but he seemed okay. Junhoe wondered why he had a panic attack? Was it the school? Was it himself? At the morning, in the car when they headed to the school, he stared at Jinhwan for a long time. He was sure Jinhwan noticed it but he only casted his eyes down.

 

So many questions popped out on Junhoe’s mind, replacing the thought of Hanbin and his own life. Why did his father brought Jinhwan home? Who is Jinhwan? But the thing that attracts Junhoe was, he felt like he recognize those look on his eyes. Somehow it looks sad. He knew it well. He still remember he used to see that looks on Hanbin’s eyes before the older boy replace it with a fierce and unloving glare.

 

He also used to see that looks on the mirror.

 

Junhoe shook his thought away. Without thinking much, he reached to Jinhwan, managing to carry the smaller boy on his back to bring him to his own room. If really there’s no one could notice him, might as well treat this ‘little toy that his old man bought’ well. Not because Junhoe really consider him as a toy. He desperately wanted someone that he can actually interact with, and since Jinhwan was there, why not him?

 

Maybe Junhoe will be less lonely.

 

Maybe Jinhwan will be too.


	4. Chapter 4

Jinhwan felt stiff when he opened his eyes, only to meet a bright light that his eyes took some times to adjust to. He felt his neck hurt because of the pillow’s wrong position, and his body got a little too hot because he was covered with a blanket up to his neck. He wanted to stretch his body, but when his eyes were fully opened, he noticed someone sits beside him on the bed, with his back leaned on to the headboard.

 

“Hi, good evening. You had slept for like eight hours now.”

 

That boy greeted him without even moving his eyes from the book he was reading. For a moment, Jinhwan only blinked at him, a little bit confused of what just happened because the last memory he found in his brain was Hanbin, with blurry background. The one who sat beside him definitely wasn’t Hanbin.

 

Jinhwan wanted to ask so badly about what happened, but he did remember that at the morning in the car, on the way to school the taller boy had made it clear that they wasn’t allowed to speak at each other. Jinhwan didn’t even remember his name, because the first thing that came out of his mouth at the morning before Jinhwan had chance to say good morning was “ _Don’t talk to me_.” What did Jinhwan even expect, his first words when they met was “ _I think you should also stay away from me._ ”

 

Actually, in the car, Jinhwan wanted to ask many things about school. He was nervous because it had been so long since he was in a crowded place—not to mention, ‘school’, the name itself scared Jinhwan a little. Jinhwan could only sit in the car playing with his fingers, biting the inside of his cheeks until somehow he could taste metal.

 

Since the first time they met, Jinhwan knew that it wouldn’t be easy for him to interact with the two brothers—they don’t even interact with each other. Jinhwan also knew that it wouldn’t be easy for him to just go to school again. His mind defined school as a scary place, where bigger boys were strong and could do anything they wanted to those who was smaller and weaker.

 

“You passed out. What did Hanbin do to you?” the boy closed his book at placed it on his lap. He looked at Jinhwan, eyes sharp and a little intimidating.

 

What did Hanbin do to him? Jinhwan couldn’t even remember. Sure, he remembered Hanbin, but his memory was blurry. There was Hanbin, but there were also so many other people surrounding him. Jinhwan remembered he was being touched and surrounded by people and it made him scared. It was too crowded that he even forgot how to breath. Jinhwan remembered that he was suffocated, that he was scared of people. When he closed his eyes to remember more, the memory came back rushing like a flood. Jinhwan could feel his hands and feet going cold as he clenched it tight, he suddenly felt so weak that he couldn’t do anything. People were looking at him, he could feel some of them touched him, Jinhwan wanted to scream but he couldn’t find his voice. It was just like one of his dreams but it was true.

 

“...hwan...”

 

Jinhwan fisted his two hands on the blanket unconsciously, his eyes were shut tight when he remembered all the things in his nightmare. The last time he felt like that he was poked by dozens of needle on his arms and thighs and he didn’t want it to happen again.

 

“...Jinhwan...”

 

Jinhwan’s breath hitched when he felt someone touched him. They always touch him first but then they restrained him, either he was being punched or being poked with needles. He hated both of it. Jinhwan wanted to just scream and run to his mother, but when he remembered his mother wasn’t there, he couldn’t hold back his tears.

 

_Mom..._

 

In his nightmare there were always so many people who wanted to hurt him but he was hiding behind his mother. But then his mother was taken by force from him, he desperately holding onto his mother’s hand but they took her anyway. Jinhwan’s hand was weak and small and it has no strength to hold his mother. He was scared, he was sad. He was just a little boy and his mother was all he had left. He was always afraid of crowd because they took his mother away...

 

“Jinhwan!!!”

 

Jinhwan opened his eyes to meet a pair of sharp eyes that full of worries. He could feel two hands cupping his cheeks tightly and he felt trapped. His tears fell to the side of his face and his breath hitched.

 

“Hey calm down, I am not gonna hurt you,”

 

Jinhwan desperately wanted to believe in that words but they always lied. They said they didn’t want to hurt him but they locked him up, they tied him, they drugged him. Jinhwan wanted to beg—for forgiveness, for mercy, for just anything just for people to stop hurting him. He felt weak and he couldn’t stand anymore pain.

 

“Why are you breathing like that— _damn_ , hey, Jinhwan!”

 

Desperately, Jinhwan tried to inhale oxygen but it got stuck on his throat. When it happened they always pump his chest with so much force that it actually hurts. Jinhwan wanted to grab anything, just anything to keep him from drowning.

 

Jinhwan then felt his body being pulled and it collided onto something warm he didn’t even recognize. He felt like he was being wrapped but he was still shaking—not from the cold, but because of something deep inside of him. He wanted to struggle, but the inner side of his mind was getting calmer.

 

“Please calm down... calm down...,” by that time, Jinhwan had already hid his face there, where he felt warmness he needed. He wanted to struggle but a part of his mind ordered him to stay.

 

As much as he wanted to just escape, Jinhwan stayed there. He didn’t know whether it was the sound of his own breath or someone else’s, but he listened anyway.

 

The hug wasn’t tight, it wasn’t too loose either. Jinhwan could feel a hand stroking the back of his head and it makes his heart calmer. He wasn’t sure whether it was real or his mind was too busy trying to be calm, but he heard a soft and comforting hum against his left ear. He wanted to listen to it more, but his eyelids are getting heavy. He unconsciously mouthed “cold” because he couldn’t feel the tip of his fingers, but then he felt he was being wrapped with warmness. Jinhwan liked how his body relaxed and unlike the other times, he actually wanted to fall asleep and snuggle even deeper to the warmness.

.

.

.

A thud woke Jinhwan from his sleep and surprisingly, he felt all better. His headache was gone and his body wasn’t as tired as what he felt hours ago. He looked around, but no one was there but him. The analog clock on his bedside table showed that it’s 3 at the morning, and beside it there was a book that’s certainly wasn’t his. He rose up to sitting position and lean his back against the headboard, then he took the book and opened the first page.

 

 _Junhoe_ , was written in Hangul with black ink on the top left.

 

Oh, right. Junhoe. Jinhwan finally recognized Junhoe, he was the younger brother. Jinhwan also remembered that it was Junhoe who accompanied him before, the book beside his table was the evident that he wasn’t seeing things in his sleep. It was real, it was Junhoe.

 

Junhoe was reading The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Jinhwan had never read the book but it didn’t look like a happy book for him. At the bottom right corner of the first page, there were hand-written words with the same black ink.

 

_Life has to end. But love doesn’t._

 

Jinhwan wasn’t sure whether it was Junhoe’s own words or the book’s, but he thought that the words are true. Jinhwan didn’t know much about life and love, but he felt like although life somehow needs to end, the love lingers. It was nice to think about it, that actually somehow, some love didn’t have an end. Jinhwan wanted to believe in it, he likes to have hopes like that.

 

He didn’t know why but he also hoped that Junhoe also had hopes like him. Junhoe was a nice and smart kid, he was there when Jinhwan woke up and Jinhwan couldn’t thank him more for accompanying him until he fell asleep. Although he looked just as cold as his brother, Junhoe was more open. Yes, he wasn’t completely happy when Jinhwan moved in, he also forbid Jinhwan to speak to him, but at least he didn’t seem as distant as his older brother.

 

When Jinhwan heard the second thud followed by a low groan, he immediately get on his feet and walk out of his room. His feet brought him to the place where he visited the last three nights. It was on the hallway that leads to what he knew as Hanbin’s room. There, was a big [painting of a red rose](http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/dusty-red-rose-chris-steinken.jpg) on the wall, and for the last three nights, Jinhwan always saw the same scenes there.

 

There was always Hanbin sitting on the floor while looking at the painting. Jinhwan would look at him from a far, afraid that Hanbin might get angry if he knew he was being watched, but Jinhwan didn’t miss the heavy sadness that portrayed by Hanbin’s feature, how often he sighed, and how glazy his eyes were.

 

Jinhwan noticed that Hanbin always came home late at night, and instead going to his own room, he would stop in the front of the painting, spending like thirty minutes to one hour just staring at the painting and he would went to his room only when he looked about to pass out from sleepiness.

 

The night before, Jinhwan waited until Hanbin went to his room. He had been sitting there for nearly one hour and Jinhwan had been sitting on the other end of hallway near the stairs, hiding behind what looked like a giant vase so Hanbin wouldn’t notice him. Jinhwan desperately wanted to ask why Hanbin sat there, he wanted to go near him even more when he noticed that night Hanbin shed tears. Jinhwan wanted to know what is it with the painting and why Hanbin looked so sad while looking at it. He wanted to ask anyone, but he didn’t know who.

 

When Hanbin had gone to his room, Jinhwan walked to the painting, looking at it once again to find what Hanbin might see in it. It was a dusty red rose with greyish white background. The petals were red with touches of white and pink. It was beautiful. It was the painting Jinhwan liked the most out of every flower paintings in the house. On the bottom right corner, there were Hanbin’s name written with red oil paint just the same as the color of the rose’s petals. From the first time Jinhwan looked at the painting, he always remembered the name that was written so beautifully.

 

Hanbin. The older brother who came home late at night and cried in front of the red rose painting.

 

But at that night, Hanbin wasn’t just sit there silently as usual. He was sitting there hugging his knees, burying his face to his folded arms. His shoulders were shaking and Jinhwan could clearly hear sobs coming from him.

 

Jinhwan could feel his heart breaks seeing the supposedly strong and cold older brother cried like a child losing his mother. He looked so broken that Jinhwan wanted so badly to come and just fix whatever his equally broken self could fix. Jinhwan didn’t even command his feet to walk bravely towards Hanbin and kneel down in front of him, but he found himself was ready to touch the sobbing boy’s shoulder. Seconds after his right hand landed on Hanbin’s left shoulder, he wait for Hanbin to snap and yell at him but it didn’t happen. Jinhwan was sure the other boy had noticed his presence, but he didn’t lift his head.

 

He cried in agony, he gripped the front side of his shirt tightly as though it was his broken heart and he was holding it so tight to stop it from hurting. Jinhwan looked at him and all he wanted to do was to mend whatever wound there was that caused the cold boy to cry that hard.

 

Hanbin lifted his head when Jinhwan’s hand rested on the top of his head, caressing his hair in the most gentle way possible. Those red tear filled eyes were staring at Jinhwan, they looked sad and broken as though he was asking for help but his pride was too strong to voice it out loud.

 

What shocked Jinhwan the most was not Hanbin’s red and swollen eyes, but his busted lips and bruised temple. Jinhwan could also smell alcohol and smoke from him but he couldn’t care less. Hanbin maight have been fighting that night, because the last time Jinhwan remembered, his lips and face were okay.

 

Jinhwan trailed the bruised temple with the tip of his finger and Hanbin winced. He didn’t look angry, only sad and tired. He didn’t push Jinhwan away, only averting his glance to the opposite direction. When Jinhwan looked down he also noticed that Hanbin’s knuckles were bleeding.

 

“It hurts.”

 

Hanbin whispered, he looked at Jinhwan with his heavy eyelids that were ready to close up any second. His cheeks were still wet from the tears, but then he wiped it roughly with the back of his hands.

 

Jinhwan wanted him to stop hurting, wherever it was, whether it was his heart or his body. He wanted so badly to console him, to tell him that everything is going to be okay, but what did he know? Jinhwan knew nothing of Hanbin’s life and the source of his sadness, he couldn’t just try to fix what he didn’t even know. Even when he knows, he wasn’t even sure that he will be able to fix anything. He could barely fix himself, who was he to think he could save someone else?

 

There were so many questions in Jinhwan’s mind but he keep silent. He didn’t do anything when Hanbin stood up and walk away from him, walking wobbly to his own room. He didn’t know whether Hanbin was sad or he was just drunk, or he was drunk because he was sad. Jinhwan still sit there, looking at the red rose painting just like what Hanbin did.

 

He wished he knew more about the painting so he knew more about Hanbin too.

.

.

.

Junhoe smiled when he saw Jinhwan was eating his breakfast in the dining room, slowly chewing the sandwich in his full mouth. He walked towards Jinhwan and placed the back of his right hand on Jinhwan’s forehead to check on his temperature.

 

Jinhwan looked shock by Junhoe’s sudden presence, but then he smiled awkwardly. Junhoe took a seat across him, waiting for the maid serving his breakfast.

 

“How are you this morning?” Junhoe asked, and Jinhwan just awkwardly nodded because his mouth was still full. He had to swallow first before he could actually speak.

 

“I’m better. Thank you.”

 

Junhoe smiled. He was glad that Jinhwan had gotten better because the night before he was really afraid to see Jinhwan gasping for breath like that. Jinhwan’s skin was so cold and he was barely conscious. Junhoe was so worried when Jinhwan had another episode of panic attack but he was glad he could calm him down.

 

Jinhwan was shivering at the night, he mumbled incoherent words and the only thing Junhoe catch was the word “cold” so he covered him with blankets. Even with blanket Jinhwan was still shivering, and that’s when Junhoe slipped inside his blanket and hugged him to sleep.

 

Junhoe was a little taken aback when Jinhwan snuggled so close to him that they literally slept against each other. The smaller boy would frequently gasped in shock or shook violently in his sleep and Junhoe had to hum songs to his ears to calm him down.

 

Junhoe had never done such a thing before, but he was glad that it worked to calm Jinhwan down.

 

“Jun...hoe?”

 

It was the first time he heard Jinhwan saying his name, and it sounds nice. He looked at Jinhwan as the sign for him to continue speaking.

 

“Thank you so much,” Jinhwan didn’t look at him on the eyes and it kind of bothered him a little, “and sorry for troubling you.”

 

Junhoe smiled again looking at how adorably tiny the older boy was. He knew that Jinhwan was actually a few years older than him but his posture made him look so much younger, even Junhoe wanted to treat him as a little brother.

 

“No, it’s okay. I am the one who is sorry because I treated you harshly when we first met,” Junhoe looked at Jinhwan, hoping his friendly tone could make Jinhwan less nervous to talk to him, “friends?” Junhoe offered his right hand for Jinhwan to shake, and even though he looked stoned for a moment, seeing Junhoe smiled friendly he smiled back and shook Junhoe’s hand. He was still nervous but it was a good step.

 

“Don’t be scared, I don’t bite, I promise.” Junhoe said, shoving his own sandwich into his mouth, “Except if you are annoying so maybe I might bite a little.”

 

Junhoe was glad that he finally saw a tiny smile of Jinhwan—it was a good beginning. Junhoe had browsed about things related to panic attack the night before, including how to handle it, what triggers it, and what to do when it happened. He still didn’t know what triggers Jinhwan’s attack at the school, but he didn’t want what happened the night before to happen again. He could wait for Jinhwan to adapt and be a little comfortable with him before asking him questions about his disease.

 

They were hopping into the car once they finished their breakfast. Junhoe noticed that Jinhwan might be a little bit nervous after what happened to him at school, the older boy had his hands on his lap and he nervously played with his fingers.

 

“Jinhwan hyung,” Junhoe wanted to laugh when Jinhwan looked surprised when he added the ‘hyung’ behind his name. “why so surprised? You are older so I call you hyung. Can I?”

 

Jinhwan only nodded, he looked cute that Junhoe wanted to tease him even more.

 

“We have to stop at the flower shop first, is it okay?” Junhoe asked, and again, Jinhwan only nodded. Junhoe was about to pour some sarcastic comment but he hold himself back. It wasn’t like he was Hanbin who didn’t care about anything. Sarcasm might actually hurt Jinhwan so Junhoe didn’t want to make anymore mistake that could make him the “bad guy” in Jinhwan’s eyes.

 

They stopped at the flower shop and Junhoe was the one who get down from the car because he said he will be quick and actually yes, it was less than five minutes he was back into the car again with a pretty bucket of red roses and a [single white tulip.](http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large-5/single-white-tulip-over-black-edward-fielding.jpg)

 

“This one is for you,” Junhoe handed the white flower to Jinhwan and the older boy took it nervously. “That’s a tulip, my favorite flower.” Jinhwan smiled seeing the flower and Junhoe was satisfied. He actually made Jinhwan smile and he couldn’t help but to feel that unnecessary proud of himself. “It’s white because I think it suits you. My favorite is the black one.”

 

Junhoe placed the roses on his lap carefully like the flowers are the most precious thing that belongs to him. Junhoe noticed that Jinhwan was looking at him curiously, maybe waiting for the explanation of why Junhoe bought flowers before they go to school.

 

“We will drop you at the school, okay? I have to go somewhere.” Junhoe said.

 

“Where?”

 

“Wow finally you speak,” Junhoe said playfully.

 

“I’ve got to see my mom, today is her birthday... and these,” Junhoe pointed at the red roses, “are my mother’s favorite flowers.”

 .

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[TBC]

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To help you with the painting, [this](http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/dusty-red-rose-chris-steinken.jpg) is what it might look like:

It's originally the painting of Chris Steinken, a painter from US.

And, the _"Life has to end. Love doesn't."_ is a quote from The Five People You Meet in Heaven.

I imagined them like: [Hanbin](https://onlyinkorean.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/ec4d7-bi.jpg) [Jinhwan](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/29/cb/d6/29cbd6e9c7893c0621474891fe352382.jpg) [ June](http://ygikon.tumblr.com/image/99308620491)


	5. Chapter 5

_Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not;_

_And often times we call a man cold, when he is only sad._

_._

_._

_._

Jinhwan stood beside Junhoe who was kneeling beside a tombstone, his two hands were clasped tightly in front of his chest, just under his chin. His eyes were closed, his lips were pressed to form a thin line—maybe holding his emotions down, as an attempt to calm himself. He didn’t miss a drop of tear that fell from Junhoe’s right eye but the latter quickly wipe it with the back of his hand.

 

The wind blew Jinhwan’s slightly long black hair, it made few petals of rose from Junhoe’s lap fell to the ground. Jinhwan could see Junhoe cracked a smile—a sincere one, but looked bitter and pained. He took the rose bucket from his lap and placed it beside the tombstone.

 

“Happy birthday, Mom.” Junhoe caressed the tombstone. His voice was low and slightly cracked. “Hyung didn’t come again, did he?”

 

It hasn’t been long since Jinhwan knew Hanbin and Junhoe, but he noticed that Junhoe didn’t address Hanbin as ‘Hyung’, they nearly never talk to each other, even if they have to, all they said were sarcasms and insults. If it wasn’t for the tears welling up on Junhoe’s eyes, Jinhwan would find it cute when the younger told his mother stories about his hyung—although in this case he was talking to a tombstone.

 

“Although he didn’t come, you know he misses you the most, don’t you?” Junhoe sighed, “I wish he will get better,” he caressed the tombstone again, “Father too, and me too.” The last words was spoken in a very low tone, barely above a whisper.

 

They stayed silence for a few minutes, Junhoe kept looking at the tombstone and then Jinhwan kneels beside him. Jinhwan knew Junhoe stared at him when he put his white tulip beside Junhoe’s red roses.

 

“May she rest in peace,” Jinhwan said, his thought flew to his own mother whom he missed so much. It must hurt so bad, knowing that someone you love leaves you, without any possibility of coming back.

 

“It’s been so long,” Junhoe said, “I didn’t even remember how mom’s voice sounds like. She was hospitalized for as long as I remember, which is not much. I was four and Hanbin was five. We used to play in hospital’s garden when we were kids, no one will believe it but I do remember Hanbin pushed swings for me. I really don’t remember much, but I don’t wish I do.”

 

Junhoe recalled his childhood, and Jinhwan found it cute when he imagined little Hanbin and little Junhoe plays together. It must be nice seeing them all friendly with each other because it made him nervous when the two of them bickers.

 

“Why don’t you want to remember?”

 

“You see Hanbin? That’s what I will become if I remember much about that time,” Junhoe chuckled of his own sarcastic comment, but he turned serious again, “but really, I know he is in more pain compared to me. No matter what, he spent time more with mom than me, he has a lot of nice memories with her. They used to sing together, paint together... She didn’t have enough time to do it with me because she was too sick already when I grew up.”

 

“Paint?”

 

“Yeah, my mother was an artist, she was a genius painter. You know, every paint in the house was painted by her. When Hanbin was very young he always clung to mom, even when she was painting. You know the red rose paint? Hanbin spilled the red paint on a canvas and mom magically turned it into a gorgeous piece of art. Genius, right?” Junhoe smiled proudly and Jinhwan felt it contagious that he also flashed a little smile.

 

Finally it clicked. The paint that Hanbin always stare at every night was made by his mother for him. It surely contains so many nice memories about him and his mother together. It explains the agony in Hanbin’s eyes when he looked at it, it explains why he cried in front of it at the night of his mother’s birthday.

 

“May I ask one question?” Jinhwan said carefully. Junhoe didn’t answer but he stared at Jinhwan as if he was waiting for it.

 

“Hanbin... he came home bruised and bleed last night. Why? What happened?”

 

“He did?” Junhoe asked, his expression was far from worried. Jinhwan nodded, and Junhoe let out a sigh. “Hanbin is... you know, out of control. I don’t really know him, he hates me, I think you already noticed that. Even if I want to pay attention to him, he pushed everyone away, without exception. I don’t really care about him either.”

 

“But he looked in pain, he was—“

 

“He probably got into fights with street thug because he was too drunk to walk straight. He will be fine, it’s been years but he managed to stay alive until now. I stopped worrying.”

 

Junhoe stood up, brushing his brown pants from dusks and smoothing his uniform. Jinhwan took it as the sign that he didn’t to be questioned anymore, and Jinhwan understand it. If it seems like for Hanbin it’s a forbidden thing to talk about his mother, for Junhoe it’s sensitive to talk about Hanbin. Although Jinhwan wanted to know more about the two brother, he still didn’t want to push it.

 

They quietly went to the car, with Jinhwan walking behind Junhoe. Their driver parked the luxurious car outside the cemetery area, making it a slightly long and awkward walk. Junhoe opened the door to let Jinhwan get in to the backseat first, and then he followed behind.

 

“Wow I guess the first class is over by now,” Junhoe looked at his wristwatch, “we’re going to school now, is that okay?”

 

Jinhwan gulped. School was not a place he liked, even the first day was awful. At the first day everyone stared at him, girls and boys, especially after he got off the car with Junhoe. Jinhwan didn’t like being stared at, he felt small, he felt insecure. That was how people stared at him back then on his elementary school, where they hated him and wanted him to disappear.

 

“Hyung?”

 

Junhoe’s call snapped Jinhwan to reality. He forced a smile but he knew Junhoe could read his emotion like an open book.

 

“Hyung, what happened?”

 

“I am okay. Yeah, let’s go to school.”

 

Junhoe clicked his tongue, “I am no fool you can just lie to,” he looked serious, “you got a panic attack. Do you think everyone got it at the first day of school just casually?”

 

“I was...,” Jinhwan looked down to his lap, he was fidgeting the hem of his blazer, “I have—“

 

“I know you have PTSD.”

 

Jinhwan stunned, Junhoe said it so casually like it was a common disease like cold or flu. Junhoe stared straight to Jinhwan’s eyes, he didn’t look judging, he didn’t look investigating. He was simply stating what’s inside his mind, and surprisingly it made Jinhwan less nervous.

 

“How do you—”

 

“Infirmary doctor told me the diagnose,” Junhoe leaned his body on the back of the seat, “and your reaction after you woke up yesterday night confirmed it; you were shaking, eyes unfocused, pupils dilating, breath ragged... I know it.”

 

Jinhwan didn’t know how to react and he only casted his eyes down. To be all honest, he still didn’t know if he was ready to go to school yet but after all the treatments, medicines, and the assurance of his doctor and psychiatrist they told him that he was. The progress of his health and mental status were relatively good and eventually he had to try adapting with the outside world again.

 

Jinhwan wanted to try so bad, he wanted to start a new chapter of his life. If not for himself, maybe for his mother who was in prison, or Mr. Kim who had been very nice to him, or his psychiatrist who had tried hard to help him.

 

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to go to school?” Junhoe’s concerned voice returned Jinhwan to their conversation, “do you have any medicines to take?”

 

“Yes, I have it in my bag,”

 

“Good then.”

 

A part of Jinhwan felt glad that Junhoe didn’t seem to ask him any further questions, the other part of him wondered why Junhoe didn’t. Jinhwan expected questions about what caused his disease, how long had it been, or things related to his sickness, but none. He even mentally prepared the answers to that questions. That was the end of their conversation and Junhoe didn’t seem to want to talk anymore.

 

Junhoe opened his backpack and took out a textbook and a pencil, he began to write down what seemed like mathematic problems and tried to solve it. He can turn into a serious mood so fast, he even ignored Jinhwan completely.

 

“Junhoe?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Is it your homework?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then what is it you are working now?”

 

Junhoe lifted his head to look at Jinhwan, “Just trying to study for my next math lesson, I won’t have much time for it later because I have so many things to do,”

 

Jinhwan throw him a questioning look and Junhoe smiled a little, “Such a good student.” Jinhwan said.

 

“Good would be an understatement, Hyung, I am excellent. Like really really good.” And Jinhwan found it nice to see Junhoe laugh. His eyes formed crescent and It was contagious that made Jinhwan curl his lips upward too.

.

.

.

Junhoe muttered curses under his breath, he forced his injured leg to run on the sidewalk not caring about the cold that seeped into the thin layer of his black jacket. The heavy backpack on his back bounced vigorously with every rushed step that he took. Junhoe catches his breathes with his mouth, trying to fill his aching lungs with the cold night air. The police station was not near, it was also his bad luck that at that moment he was alone at the dance studio—no Donghyuk or Chanwoo to accompany him, or at least give him ride.

 

It was one at the morning, his eyes were just starting to feel heavy when he decided to just sleep at the studio, but then his phone vibrates stubbornly for a good half an hour making him let out a frustrated growl. He was just about to yell at the one across the line but his sleep swept away from his eyes when he heard a stern voice demanding him to come to the police office. Junhoe didn’t catch the entire conversation—he didn’t even make any sound beside casual ‘yes’ or ‘okay’, but once Hanbin’s name mentioned, he rose to his feet, grabbed his backpack on the floor and flew out of the studio without even bother to lock it.

 

Half way of his running, when his breath ragged and throat dry, Junhoe nearly decided to stop and go back to sleep at the studio but he didn’t know what force that gave his aching right leg energy to run some more. The road was nearly empty, the cold had seeped to the bone at some point. He didn’t know what makes him so angry—or worried, or both, Junhoe had this urge to see what happened to Hanbin and what chaos had he created. He wanted to see—damn, to mockingly stare at him throwing his fault to his face hoping that Hanbin would at least feel bad about his damaged self.

 

Junhoe wasn’t sure whether to pity Hanbin or himself.

 

Junhoe wondered why he couldn’t hate as good as Hanbin does. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted himself to be able to do so, or just wanted strength to bear the hatred for some more time.

 

When Junhoe opened the glass door of the police station, he was greeted by two officers at their desk who looked sleep deprived and high of coffee. One of them asked him what he wanted, why was he there. Junhoe wanted to at least sit or catch his breath—and a good gulp of cold water too, but he knew that he’s in no place to ask so.

 

“I don’t know..., I come for someone named Hanbin,”

 

“Oh probably the drunk kid,” the police officer who seemed younger said to the other one, and they guided him to another room. The room’s got what seemed like cheap heater that doesn’t work good enough, and that’s when Junhoe noticed he was sweating, that his bangs stuck onto his forehead. He was guided to sit on a chair across an officer who seemed young, and Junhoe really want to just get the problem done—he had no time for any kind of interrogations. He had even regretted his decision to come, mentally cursing himself why couldn’t he just go back to sleep and let Hanbin do more damage to himself and his surroundings.

 

“So, what’s your relation to Kim Hanbin?”

 

The police officer seemed to have even less interest to the case than Junhoe, probably he had used to face some unstable kids got drunk, smoke weed and eventually gotten themselves on a cheap street fight.

 

“I’m...” should he say it? Junhoe smirked to himself, he felt it funny, “I’m his brother.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Sixteen.”

 

The police officer sighed, he eventually had dropped his barely existent interest to minus already, “look kid,” he looked at Junhoe, judging, “you need to bring someone older, you are not even legal.”

 

“I know how to handle things.” Junhoe said coldly.

 

“Oh yeah? How about handling some teenager who had burned down a night club?”

 

Junhoe’s eyes widen. Hanbin was crazier than what he could imagine, “what?”

 

“We have to talk with your parents,” the officer sipped his coffee, “this is not an easy case, kid. Your brother is in real trouble now.”

 

Junhoe couldn’t snap himself from the shock, he knew Hanbin was a messy kid but never in Junhoe’s mind ever crossed the thought of him doing such a dangerous thing. Hanbin was a damage, but at this rate, he was already sick. He was already out of his mind.

 

Their father might not be cruel with words or actions, he never throw punches nor kicks but this case might lead Hanbin to a mental facility for his entire youth—his father is a big believer of mental health.

 

“Can I see him?”

 

“He’s in a cell, he refused to cooperate. He was injured too.” And Junhoe wordlessly follows the officer to what seemed like a single but big prison cell, there were few people inside and he needed no time to notice Hanbin burying his face on his folded knees. His baggy clothes were dirty and ripped at some parts, there were cuts and bruises on his arms and other exposed body that Junhoe refused to count.

 

The officer left and gave him ten minutes to talk. Junhoe just stood there, keeping distance from the black iron bars that separated him from Hanbin.

 

“Hey,” Junhoe voice cracked a bit, from anger or nervousness, he wouldn’t know, “Hanbin.”

 

The taste of his name was strange, he couldn’t remember when was the last time he used that name to call the latter.

 

Hanbin didn’t flinch but his somehow ragged breathing showed that he noticed Junhoe’s presence.

 

Junhoe let out a sarcastic laugh—he honestly didn’t have any idea how to face this kind of situation, “How much more fucked up can you actually be?”

 

Even Junhoe was surprised of the words that flew out of his lips. It sounded ruder than what he intended and it was too late to take it back.

 

Hanbin kept silent, Junhoe guessed he was too ashamed to lift his head and face Junhoe with full pride and ignorance as usual.

 

“I thought you were damaged enough, but this time it’s just plain sick.”

 

Hanbin ran his fingers through his jet black hair, he looked frustrated, Junhoe could notice. Some small part in Junhoe’s heart knew maybe it was hurt that made his eyes welled up, but he chose to ignore it.

 

“I need to tell father.”

 

Was it a sniffle? Was it the sound of Hanbin’s desperation or it’s just Junhoe who hoped at least Hanbin regrets his action? Junhoe wasn’t sure what to feel, he wasn’t happy nor satisfied, no. There was a slight disappointment, a slight worry, but also a little bit of relief to see that Hanbin at least was alive.

 

Junhoe knew some pair of eyes were watching them, watching Junhoe talked to someone who didn’t seem to care at all. In the middle of Junhoe’s endless effort to find any reason that makes Hanbin acted too wild, he kept looking at Hanbin who was curled up like a kid who just got scolded by his mother—but only, he was not. Junhoe even wished that this was a mere scold, but no, this was a big mess.

 

“Say something, you bastard.” Junhoe growled, he fisted his two hands that his nails were digging into his palms. Junhoe wanted so badly to just blow any senses to Hanbin’s messy little head but deep inside Junhoe knew he was only hurt, that even at that kind of situation, Hanbin refused to look at him.

 

Junhoe wanted to deny that the wetness that formed on his two eyes were tears. He was craving for any touch right at the moment, a blow, a punch, a kick, anything. He wanted to feel at least something to defeat the pain that creeped up to his heart by seeing how Hanbin’s shoulder shook of what he refuse to identify as cries. No. A fucked up human being like Hanbin didn’t cry, did he?

 

“Fucking say anything Kim Hanbin you basta—”

 

“Fuck off, damn it, FUCK OFF!”

 

Those bloodshot eyes were looking straight at Junhoe’s wet pairs, and what shocked him was not the uncountable cuts and bruises on Hanbin’s face, and not the forced anger that turns into desperate cries.

 

What surprised Junhoe was the amount of silent pain he could see on Hanbin’s face and how Hanbin’s pain could badly hurt him too.

 

[TBC]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it really makes me happy when you guys leave a thought about the story, and you catch the message i am trying to convey. 
> 
> I really do wish that you can get a thing or two from this story. If not now, maybe later when the story progresses.
> 
> If you don't then just enjoy the ikons lol
> 
> Anyway, in case any of you want to talk to me drop me a mention or DM or curiouscat @runsoftbin.
> 
> Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from AFF with the same title.  
> Updated version, though.  
> Hopefully, less grammar mistakes, more accurate plot.
> 
> Terror me for updates or just simply talk ikon with me,  
> hit me up on twitter @rundaehyun  
> I'm there (almost) all the time.
> 
> Enjoy!


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